On the Brink: Ron's Point of View
by Julia Holtemore
Summary: Okay, this is an alternate chapter eleven of my story Harry Potter and the Past's Forgotten Mysteries. Harry is having all of these visions and scar pains. What is Ron going to do about it? Spoilers!


**A/N:** Hiya everybody! This here is an alternate chapter eleven to my other story, Harry Potter and the Past's Forgotten Mysteries. I wrote it from Ron's point of view, to make it more interesting and explain things better. If you have not read my version of the seventh book, you might be a little confused. Actually, really confused. So, go ahead and click on my penname up top and read my story so you can catch up, and then you can come back to this and know perfetly well what's going on. But then again, you can simply read it; it's up to you. Either way, PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks and Cheers!

-Julia Holtemore

Disclaimer: I hate to break it to you, but this is called _fan fiction._ I don't own J.K. Rowling's stuff.

Chapter Eleven

On the Brink

Ron's Point of View

Ron Weasley sat up in his four poster and drew back the hangings. It was early Thursday morning and no one else was awake. At least, that's what he thought at first.

He stood up and walked over to the figure who was sitting on the window sill and resting his head against the pane.

"Harry, what are you doing up this early?" Ron asked through a yawn.

Harry jumped slightly and Ron saw all of the exhaustion and pain his best mate was feeling cross his face for just a fleeting moment.

"Couldn't sleep," Harry mumbled, turning back to look out the window.

Ever since he had been having those visions and pains in his scar, Harry had been much more quiet and reserved. It seemed that no one could get him to say more than three sentences at a time. For some people it was aggravating, but for Harry's friends, it was saddening.

"Is it your scar again?" Ron asked quietly. He didn't want any of the other boys in the dormitory to know about Harry having weird episodes with his scar again. It was bad enough already.

Harry simply nodded, still looking away, so Ron decided he could press further.

"But I thought those visions had... er, calmed down a bit," he said hesitantly.

"They have," Harry replied quietly, and Ron noticed that his voice was going out. "I only have them once or twice a day." He was trying to sound casual, but Ron saw him bite his lip against the pain in his scar.

"Mate, you need to get some sleep. You look like you haven't rested in years."

Harry shrugged. "It's only been five days. I've gone without sleep before."

The way Harry was simply giving up worried Ron, making him desperate to try to convince him otherwise.

"Yeah, but not with all of those pains you're dealing with. It's taking more energy out of you than you think."

Ron knew this was true, and that Harry had to face the facts. No one really knew fully what Harry was going through, but everyone could see the effects it was having on him. His eyes were frequently unfocussed as he stared off unseeingly, he tripped over nearly everything because he didn't have the energy to pick up his feet, and he was constantly breathing heavily with even the slightest amount of physical exertion. His legs shook when he tried to walk and after one of those visions he always looked like he'd been hit by a stampede of centaurs. Ron didn't have to see the paleness of his skin or the dark circles under his eyes to know that he felt absolutely wretched.

"I'll manage," Harry mumbled, finally turning away from the window. "Want to go down to breakfast?"

Ron sighed and nodded. Harry obviously didn't want to draw more attention to himself by skipping classes or getting help. Hermione would have to help him think of something. Harry was becoming seriously ill, and even if it wasn't his fault, he could at least try to get better.

As they were walking down the stairs, Harry appeared to be straining to stay up. This worried Ron. _If Harry can't even walk down the stairs properly_, he thought, _then how is he supposed to cope if he has another vision? _

As they entered the Great Hall, Ron suddenly realized how hungry he was and rushed to sit down at the Gryffindor table. He immediately dished up large amounts of food and began eating greedily as Hermione and Ginny walked in. He heard Harry mumble a weak, "Hello," that was so feeble, he almost didn't catch it. Ron looked up and was about to ask him about it when Ginny spoke.

"So you guys have the first two periods free, right?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, then I have another free period and Harry teaches the fifth years. Isn't that right, Harry?"

He turned to look at Harry and saw him tense with a far-off look in his eyes. He shook his head and sighed sadly. Harry was having another vision.

Ron shot Hermione and Ginny a meaningful look, then gestured to Harry. They all watched Harry mournfully as his eyes refocused and he slumped in his seat. He slowly relaxed, dropping his fork on his plate and putting his head in his hands. He looked horribly drained, not that that was a surprise. After five days without sleep? It was amazing his body hadn't simply shut down.

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione sympathetically. "It happened again, didn't it?"

Harry nodded into his hands and Ginny gently rubbed his back in comfort. None of them really knew what to say, so they just sat there in silence.

"'Lo, everybody," said Dean brightly as he and Seamus sat down next to them. He started serving himself food, but then noticed that no one had reacted to them. He looked around and saw Harry with his head in his hands. "Harry, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Dean," Harry said hoarsely, brushing off the comment. He then stood, swaying slightly, as if his feet were protesting from the sudden change of pace. "Well, I'm going to go back upstairs. I need to do some... er... studying."

Ron felt a sharp pain in his ribs, and turned to see Hermione standing up. "We'll come too," she said. Ron caught the somewhat painful hint and stood as well.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I have class," said Ginny regretfully, looking up at her boyfriend. "I'll see you at lunch, I guess."

"All right," Harry said, and then he led the way out of the Hall. They had crossed the entrance hall and were just starting to go up the stairs when they heard a sneering voice call from somewhere behind them.

"Hey, Potter, you feeling all right?"

Ron turned around quickly and saw the stupid first year, Vladimir Omega, coming up the stairs from the dungeons. Ron knew Harry didn't have the energy for a confrontation, and began leading him up the stairs.

"I dunno, it seems like with all of those weird pains in your scar, you might be a little too weak to handle it," Omega called.

Hermione gasped, Harry stopped mid-step, and Ron nearly fell down the stairs. How on earth...

"Ah, I see I've said something familiar," Omega sneered. "Oh well, I suppose I'd better go get some breakfast before Potter starts crying about his dead family."

Ron couldn't handle it any more. Harry was having a tough enough time as it was without this git. He whirled around and shouted, "Stuff it, Omega!"

Omega's eyes narrowed. "Watch it, Weasley," he said menacingly. "Or you might be the person Potter sees next!"

Ron stared, open mouthed, and felt the blood drain out of his face. He watched as Omega turned up his nose and walked into the Great Hall. He felt determination surge through him.

"Come on, mate," he said, placing a hand on his best friend's back and guiding him up the stairs. "You don't need to listen to the Slytherin scum. Let's get up to the common room."

He and Hermione continued to console Harry, telling him not to worry about a thing. Ron realized that he was encouraging himself more than anyone else, after what Omega had said to him.

_You might be the person Potter sees next!_

Surely he wasn't referring to Harry's visions? Only four people knew about those, and he was sure none of them had told Vladimir Omega. _He must have some inside information_, Ron thought. _After all, his mum is a Death Eater, and his dad probably is too._

Ignoring these thoughts, he and Hermione continued to encourage Harry, until he finally spoke.

"Look, you guys," he said quietly as they entered through the portrait hole. "I appreciate the support, but in case you couldn't tell, I just want to find out how Omega knows about my visions."

Ron made eye contact with Hermione, and they both sighed.

"Of course," Hermione said. "We'll figure this out, Harry. We promise."

Harry looked immensely relieved and sank into one of the fluffy armchairs next to the fire. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

Ron and Hermione sat down next to him, watching him gaze into the fire, Again, his eyes were unfocussed and he didn't appear to be thinking about anything in particular. Ron decided to bring it up again.

"Look, Harry. You need sleep. I know you say you can't, but maybe you should try going to the hospital wing. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can give you something-"

"No," Harry said with a very final tone. He shook his head and then winced, probably from a head ache. ""She couldn't possibly have anything. I can't sleep because of my scar, and no one has a scar like mine, so she can't possibly have something to help."

Ron was about to say something, and Hermione as well, but Harry cut them off.

"Besides," he said with a sigh. "I don't have time to deal with it. I have to teach at eleven fifteen."

Suddenly Hermione jumped out of her seat. "That's right, I have Arithmancy soon!" She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked to the portrait hole. "Oh, erm, Ron? Can I speak with you for a moment?"

"Sure," Ron said. He didn't really know what she wanted to say that she couldn't say in front of Harry, but he soon found out.

"Ron, you have to get him to the hospital wing," whispered Hermione, gesturing to Harry, who was pulling out a book. "He's not going to be able to hold it together much longer. He could seriously hurt himself."

Ron took a deep breath. "I know," he replied quietly. "But what am I supposed to do? You heard him. He absolutely refuses to go see Madam Pomfrey. He's such a prat sometimes."

Ron said that last part more to himself, but Hermione still heard and gave him a sour look.

"Don't call him that, he's going through enough. And I honestly don't care what you do. Just get him to the hospital wing! He's so weak and skinny now, you could probably carry him and he wouldn't be able to do anything. Well, as long as he doesn't have his wand."

Ron nodded. Harry hadn't eaten more than a few bites of food in the last five days, and he was already lean beforehand. That, topped with his lack of sleep, would make him pretty much powerless. However, Harry did know some pretty nasty curses, and Ron knew for certain that he didn't want to get on the wrong side of one.

"I'll think of something," Ron said. "But what about his class? He'll get into trouble if he just leaves."

Hermione thought for a moment. Then her eyes widened. "You know those mirrors Harry told us about?" she asked excitedly.

"The ones that he and Sirius had?"

"Yes. Well, now Lupin has one of them. We can just ask him to come and sub for a little while. He'll come in a heartbeat if he knows Harry isn't well!"

Ron thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "That just might work! But Hermione... what if he's on a mission for the Order? He can't just up and leave."

Hermione sighed. "Well, then, I can come in and sub his class if that's the case. But we should at least try to get a hold of Lupin."

They both agreed that that was the best plan, and Hermione said she really should leave for Arithmancy.

"Right, well, I should see you at lunch," she said, a little louder than necessary. If Harry hadn't been so out of it, Ron knew he would suspect something. Saying goodbye, Hermione gave him a quick kiss and hurried out of the portrait hole. Sighing and realizing he still had no idea how to get Harry to the hospital wing, he decided first things first. He needed to get Harry to tell him where his two-way mirror was.

Ron walked back over to where Harry was sitting and sat next to him. Harry didn't seem to notice. He was rubbing his glasses vigorously on his robes. Ron was trying to figure out how to ask Harry about the mirror, watching as Harry pushed his glasses back onto his nose, stared blankly at the page for a moment, and shut his book in frustration.

"So, er... Harry?" Ron asked casually, trying not to make Harry's temper rise or bring up sore feelings. "Do you remember where you put that two-way mirror , by any chance?"

Ron saw Harry struggle to remember for a few moments before answering. "Er... in the bottom of my trunk, I suppose. Why?"

"Oh, I, er..." Ron certainly couldn't tell him the truth. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, positive he was giving himself away. "I was just wondering, that's all." He avoided Harry's eyes and began idling with a loose string on the upholstery on his chair. He saw Harry shrug out of the corner of his eye and realized that even if he had noticed Ron's odd behavior, he didn't really care.

Sighing with relief, Ron decided to try and direct him off the subject for a little while. He reached over to his book bag on the floor and pulled out and inkwell and quill.

"Reckon we ought to get started on our Potions essay, don't you?"

Harry nodded and pulled out his own things as Ron began working on his assignment. He tried to focus on his essay.

_The use of the Bison hair in the Pellagrous Potion can easily cause an orange steam to emit from the sides of the cauldron. To counteract this reaction, one must stir counterclockwise five turns and mix in a single drop of tarrantulla venum._

_No,_ Ron thought._ That can't be right._

_Taurrantula venim?_

_Tuarantulla vunem?_

_Tarann-_

"Bother," he said aloud. "I think I misspelled _tarantula venom_. Where's Hermione when you need her?"

Harry shrugged and Ron frowned at his essay, thinking of Hermione. How was he supposed to get that bloody mirror like she'd asked him to? Then he thought of something and snapped his fingers, standing abruptly.

"I think I still have a spell-checking quill under my bed! I'll be right back." He ran to the boys' dormitory staircase and up to the seventh years' room. But instead of looking for a spell-checking quill, which he saw sitting on the floor a few feet away, he rushed to Harry's trunk and began searching through it. He couldn't help but notice that it was much more organized than his own, which had a large pile of dirty laundry overflowing from it.

_Wow_, he thought._ How does Harry keep it so neat?_

But he didn't have time to dwell on the matter, because he suddenly found his reflection staring up at him.

"Brilliant!" he said aloud, and grabbed the two-way mirror. "Er... now what do I do with it?" (He had a habit of talking aloud when he was alone. Hermione had caught him at it many times.) He wracked his brain to remember how it worked. Then he remembered that he had to say the person's name.

"Oh yeah... Remus Lupin," he breathed into the mirror.

Instantly, his reflection disappeared and a new one slowly swam into view.

"Harry, what can I do for- Ron?" Lupin looked worried and confused. "Where's Harry? Is something wrong? Is Harry all right?"

Ron bit his lip. "Well, not really, Professor. It's hard to explain, but I have to get him to the hospital wing. Is there anyway you could get here in time to teach his class at eleven fifteen?"

Lupin looked like he wanted to ask more about Harry's condition, but instead he just nodded.

"Of course. I'll be there as soon as possible."

And with that the conversation was over and his face disappeared. Ron placed the mirror back at the bottom of Harry's trunk, shuffling things back into their original position. Then he quickly closed the trunk, snatched up the spell-checking quill, and rushed out of the room.

"Sorry it took me so long," he said, trying to come up with an excuse. "It was really far under there-" He saw that all of Harry's things had been returned to his bag and he had resumed staring into the fire unseeingly. "Given up, have you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh, standing up. "I can't really see very well at the moment. I think I'm just going to go to class a bit early."

Harry probably didn't notice, but Ron could barely understand him. All he caught was "can't... see" and "class... early." It was enough for Ron to get the idea, though. Harry was now so exhausted that he could no longer see and if Ron didn't catch him soon, he was going to leave without him. Luckily, Ron found his excuse as he watched Harry stumble into three chairs and a table as he tried to cross the common room.

"Er, mate? Why don't I walk with you? Make sure you don't hurt yourself." Ron stood, torn between smiling as he pictured Harry stumbling about, or panicking because Harry was in such a bad condition. Unfortunately, his mind chose the later and went out of control. Hoping the panic hadn't shown on his face, he pushed open the portrait hole. He and Harry climbed out and began to walk down the seventh floor corridor. Harry was swerving dangerously, so Ron grabbed his upper arm to keep him steady.

Suddenly Ron felt Harry tense under his grip. He looked up to see Harry's eyes unfocus and knew that it was happening again. But this time it was different. A look of horror came over his best mate and Ron found himself almost completely supporting his weight, which wasn't very much compared to a normal person, but it still threw him off. He struggled with the sudden change and saw Harry's eyes refocus again and he stood gasping for breath, one hand over his scar.

"Harry, are you all right?" Ron asked with a feeling that Harry couldn't hear him. "Did it happen again?"

But then Harry seemed to tense even more and jerked down so he was on his knees, his eyes again unfocused. The look on his face made Ron absolutely terrified. He'd never seen this emotion in Harry. It was... _fear._ He knew Harry felt it, of course, but it had never shown on his face, especially so pronounced and mixed with the horror at whatever he was witnessing. It only showed for a moment, and then Ron felt Harry's body relax, and saw his eyes droop. Soon he was out cold, and Ron laid him down on the floor.

"Harry," he said, trying to say it loudly, but not draw attention to them. "Harry wake up. _Wake up!_"

But he knew it was useless. Harry's body couldn't handle the stress anymore. For all Ron knew, he was in a coma. The panic he felt earlier went into overdrive.

"Hey! Hey, anybody! I need some help!" he shouted down the corridor. But no one came. Trying to think of something, he decided that the best he could do was get Harry to the hospital wing. He whipped out his wand.

"_Wingardium Leviosa"_

Harry's prone form raised into the air. Ron didn't know if that was the best spell for the job, but it was the only one he could think of at the moment that wouldn't cause worse damage, and it was working. He quickly ran down the corridor, directing his wand in front of him to make Harry float ahead of him. The hospital wing wasn't far, and he was soon throwing the doors open and rushing in. He lifted Harry out of the air and set him on an empty bed at the same moment that Madam Pomfrey came out to see what all of the ruckus was about.

"Mr. Weasley, what are you- oh dear, what has he done this time?" She rushed over to where Harry lay and felt for a pulse. "Well, he appears to have a slow pulse, but not fatally so. What happened?"

"He just... collapsed."

"He just... collapsed?" Madam Pomfrey repeated skeptically. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Ron gritted his teeth. Harry was going to kill him for telling people about this, but if it helped him get better...

"Well, he's been having pains in his scar again. He hasn't slept in five days because the pain has kept him awake. It looked like he was having another attack, and then he..."

"Collapsed," Madam Pomfrey finished thoughtfully. She put her hands on her hips. "Well, I don't really know what I can do. We'll just have to wait for him to wake up."

Ron gaped at her. "There's nothing you can do?"

Madam Pomfrey's lips hardened into a thin line. "No, Mr. Weasley, there is nothing. I would appreciate it if you did not question my judgment."

"Oh, that's not what I meant. I was just..." What was he trying to say? "I'm sorry. But can't you give him something to help him sleep at least?"

"Yes, I suppose. Not now, of course. But I see how that might help at least."

Ron thanked her and watched as she checked to make sure Harry hadn't slipped into a coma. She said he'd be fine, and that Ron should really go down to lunch; he could visit later if he wanted.

Ron went down to the Great Hall to find Hermione and Ginny talking quietly toward the end of the table. He walked over to them and sat down.

"Oh, good," said Hermione in relief. "You got him to go to the hospital wing," Hermione said with relief.

"Did he put up a fight?" Ginny asked.

"Er, no," said Ron quietly, looking away. He knew he had to tell Ginny this, but he was not looking forward to her reaction. "He couldn't. He blacked out before I could get him there."

"_What?"_

He heard two forks drop with a clatter. He looked up to see Hermione staring at him with her mouth hanging open and Ginny paling and looking like she was about to black out herself.

"Calm down," Ron hissed, looking down the table at the people who were trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. "He's fine. He's in the hospital wing right now."

Ginny stood abruptly. "I'm going to see him."

She began marching out of the Great Hall and Ron and Hermione had to run to catch up.

"Ginny, relax. He's going to be okay."

Ron had said this at least a hundred times to her, but to no avail. She still sat next to Harry, holding onto his hand for dear life. She didn't cry, or anything. Ron hadn't seen her cry since she'd come out of the Chamber of Secrets. She just sat there, deathly silent, except when someone suggested she leave, to which she would snap at them with harsh words. She had been just as bad when Harry had been wounded with the Black Powder. Ron privately wondered if Hermione would ever get like that if something happened to him. Then he shook that out of his mind. His best friend was ill, he needed to focus.

He looked at where Harry lay. His face was still holding a small fraction of that horrified look he had had before he fainted. The dark circles were still there, and he was still pale...

_Well, what do you expect?_ he thought_. It's only been sixteen hours. You can't make up for five days of no sleep with sixteen hours._

He looked over to where Ginny was sitting and noticed that she had fallen asleep in her chair, still holding Harry's hand, with her head on his bed. Smiling a little, Ron moved over to his sister and gently pulled her hand away from Harry's. Then he quietly picked up the chair she was sitting in and scooted it back a bit next to where Hermione was sleeping in her own chair. He gave them each a pillow, just as he heard the door to the infirmary open.

"Mr. Weasley, if we could have a word?"

Ron turned to see Professor McGonagall, Tonks, and Lupin stride in. He sighed. He'd already spoken to all of them before. He left Hermione and Ginny where they were and moved to where the three adults stood.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, will you please tell me what happened again?" said Professor McGonagall.

"I told you," Ron replied tersely. "He kept having these pains in his scar. He hadn't gotten any sleep for about five days because of it. Finally, when I was trying to get him here, actually, he just... collapsed."

He said the story quickly. He'd already told it about a thousand times, and he found his patience waning.

"Five days?" Tonks asked, sounding awed. "He hadn't slept in five days? Along with the pains in his scar? Goodness, I'm amazed he lasted that long."

"Yeah, well, as you can see, he couldn't handle it like he thought he could." Ron pointed to where Harry lay, and then saw that Harry's eyes were open. "Hey, mate!" he said with surprise. "You're awake!"

He walked briskly to Harry's bedside, no bothering to be quiet anymore. McGonagall, Tonks, and Lupin all followed. And as they reached the bed, Hermione and Ginny stirred awake as well. Harry sat up slowly and gave them a weak smile.

"Wotcher, Harry," said Tonks, winking.

"How're you feeling?" Ginny asked worriedly, scooting closer and grabbing his hand again.

"I'm better, I guess," Harry said, and Ron heard the strain in his voice as Harry turned to look at him questioningly. "What happened?"

"You passed out a few hours ago," Ron replied grimly. He didn't feel the need to tell him exactly how long he was out, so he continued on quickly. "It's a good thing we were already on our way over here, or-"

"Wait," Harry interrupted, sounding terribly confused. "I thought we were on our way to Defense."

Ron turned to Hermione nervously, not wanting to tell him that they had plotted behind his back. Especially after how he'd reacted when he'd caught Ron following him at Hogsmeade.

"Well, Harry," Hermione said, thankfully taking over for him. "We knew you were on the brink, so I told Ron to try to get you to the hospital wing."

Ron nodded. "Sorry, mate, but I knew you wouldn't come on your own. I had to lie to get you anywhere near here." He really hoped Harry didn't bite his head off.

Harry looked like he was struggling to follow. He still looked really tired. "But then... what happened to my defense class?"

"I took over for a little while," said Lupin, smiling a little at his worry about a Defense class at a time like this.

"But, how did you-"

"Ron contacted me using your two-way mirror," Lupin said. Ron was amazed at how well he knew Harry and what he was thinking. "Of course, that was before you passed out."

Harry looked like he was struggling between anger and gratitude toward them, but after a moment he muttered, "Thanks." Ron smiled and saw Lupin doing the same, showing that they were glad to help.

"However, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, and Ron resisted the urge to let out a groan. She always had to burst their bubble, didn't she? "You yet again acted irresponsibly. If you had just gone to see Madam Pomfrey in the first place-"

"Forgive me, Professor," said Ginny, and Ron was startled that she had the nerve to interrupt her, "but Harry did have a valid reason for not coming here. I mean, how would Madam Pomfrey be able to stop the pain in his scar? He's the only one who has survived the _Avada Kedavra_ curse, so why would Madam Pomfrey have a cure?"

Ron glanced at Harry and saw that he was smiling. Ron had to admit, her forwardness was very entertaining. As was McGonagall's reaction to it.

"Well, all the same," McGonagall said quickly, gaining composure, "it wouldn't have hurt to come here. I know for sure that she could at least have given him a sleeping potion so he could get some rest. This, by the way, is what Potter should be getting right now."

McGonagall turned and went into Madam Pomfrey's office and spoke with her for a moment before having the nurse return.

"All right," said Madam Pomfrey. "Potter needs more rest. So if you will please leave, I need to give him some potion for a dreamless sleep..."

Lupin, Tonks, and McGonagall immediately left. However, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were less willing to leave. They all argued with Madam Pomfrey for several minutes, and when Harry finally said he really didn't mind, she agreed. Harry looked immensely grateful to have them around, and Ron couldn't help remembering how terrified he looked when he had had that last vision.

_Whatever he saw, it's made him worried to go to sleep,_ Ron thought. _I'll have to ask him about it later. _

Soon Madam Pomfrey was forcing a potion down Harry's throat and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all watched as Harry closed his eyes and fell back onto the pillow, finally getting some rest.


End file.
